


way too hot (to simmer down)

by phanetixs



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, alternative title, asian references bc im deprived, gembira di singapura, singapore!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 14:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10664115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanetixs/pseuds/phanetixs
Summary: Fuckinggreat, Singapore is.Or, snippets of them on holiday, and them smiling at each other way too often.





	way too hot (to simmer down)

**Author's Note:**

> so, i was having a crap week and suddenly, d&p visited the country within driving distance!! from mine. this mess materialised itself. enjoy!

 

It’s then: when it’s dark in Singapore’s SEA Aquarium and the swirling bright colours of fish surrounding them, Phil suddenly _knows_ \- incontrovertibly and in all the ways that matter- that the next time he kneels like this, it’ll be to squealing delight at the glinting metal in his palm and _Phil, Phil, we’re getting married!_

 

It’s a 13-hour flight. It’s night when they leave, late in the dazzling runway light of Heathrow, plane veering onto the runway and the rumble of its engine. 

Them both looking out the frosty window at home below them; a new adventure in store. Phil feels excitement gurgle a little in his stomach, thinks of Asian sun and Amplify Australia. Looks at Dan and the puffs of sleep easily escaping him, side of his head resting comfortably in the juncture between Phil’s neck and shoulder. 

Excitement bubbles, dissipates, and the warmth of the man by his side lulls him to sleep; Asia awaits when the first light of dawn stripes against their eyelids and _then_ , properly, the adventure begins.

 

-

 

It’s hot. Like full bottle of sunscreen hot. But, then, it’s humid and wet everywhere and so: Phil’s just baffled by the weather, honestly. He notices Dan’s curls curl over themselves and he reaches out quickly to soothe over his neck and back because the weather mustn’t be any better for him either. 

They’re both too white for their own good.

“Mmm,” his voice muffled by the rubbing of his sleeve across his face, “I’m sweating, and we haven’t been here ten minutes.” His cheeks pink under the rays of light beating down over them. Adorable he looks but Phil groans in response because he’s heard this four times since they’ve stepped foot near the equator.

“That’s Asia for you,” he says, and knows Dan is smiling too because they’re in fucking _Asia_ (southeast, this time, so things _must_ be a lot cooler- figuratively, at least) and they’re _together_ and Dan looks beautiful beautiful beautiful with the sweat making its way down the side of his face and lips pursed as they look for a vacant taxi.

Dan says a while later, “Phil, Phil, come on, taxi’s this way, I think.” And there’s no taxi stand, really, but it’s the way Singapore grins entirely at him that Phil takes Dan’s proffered hand.

“In any case, let’s get positively lost in Singapore, shall we?”

And Phil grins some more, squeezes his palm once and they’re off.

 

-

 

Orchard Road is an _experience_ , to say the least. Not as much of relationship bonding time as it _is_ time for Dan to coo over the overpriced ripped jeans H &M has to offer, to bop into every small Singaporean boutique store and be offered an array of _sarong_ and _batik_ apparel.

Dan smiles, looks instead for the token I Heart Singapore t-shirts, and Phil stands back to watch him. 

He’s always liked hanging around whilst Dan shops, likes watching his eyes light up and the easy way he turns to Phil before he decides. Like he _wants_ to hear what Phil thinks, if Phil likes it; and Phil likes all of it, if it means the beaming smile he gets in return.

(That’s how Dan weaselled his way into the last Kanye potato sack jumper last summer: he didn’t have to try hard, honestly)

Eventually, after some haggling with a petite-looking Chinese lady- charmed by the end, calls him _shuai ge_ and gives him more of a discount - Dan buys a pack of keychains and a pair of technicolour lion socks that he claims are for Darcy but they both know whose closet they’ll end up residing in. 

   

 

At the end, when the Sun is waning low, they stroll along the banks of Merlion Park and they set their things down on a bench, stretch mindlessly.  

“Tired?” Phil asks, runs his hand quickly down the length of Dan’s arm and pulls back. The Sun’s about setting now but Phil keeps his eyes trailed on Dan, his smile, pulling him to the edge and watching the elegant spurts of water from its mouth.

“Same,” Dan jokes, eyes fond and with lust in equal measure, and Phil stores the information for later. He tells Dan to pose for a photo. And then, _rude boy;_ Dan smirks at Phil typing out a caption: _Daddy_ and lowkey bestiality (what’s new?) and Phil handing back Dan’s phone and saying, _Well, you are thirsty,_ and laughing too loud at Dan’s scandalised look.

They can deal with all that _later,_ they decide. Instead, they watch the Sun set over the pink and purple-hued Singaporean sky.

 

-

 

 _Later_ is this:

 

They’re at a freakishly tall building, trying to view another freakishly tall building ( _boat_ , Phil wildly guesses, _there’s a giant boat on that skyscraper_ )

Turns out, one of them is a _bar_ , three hundred feet in the Singapore skyline. And the feeling of being _this_ high and _this_ much in love is strangely reminiscent.  

As does what happens next:

They get tipsy enough to slow dance to Michael Jackson with bubbling anxiety determinedly kept at bay. Hours in, three Cosmopolitans entail grinding sloppily under the dim bar lights and the comforting realisation of all other patrons being over _50_ and not being able to tell apart _amazingphil_ from the horny bloke who’s trying to get handsy on his boyfriend of seven years.    

Fucking _great,_ Singapore is.

 

-

 

The next morning, they wake early enough to have lunch at a reasonable hour and go in search for local food along the back streets of Singapore. Reddit tells Dan the best stalls to visit and they walk a short way to the _mee_ shops around the corner and the rush hour crowds. 

“This smells heavenly, Phil, look,” he points at a tray of noodles on his left, “this place is _heavenly_.” Dan looks wistful and simultaneously looks two minutes from exclaiming a dramatic plan to move to this part of the world (he can imagine Dan pouting, _but we can do YouTube from anywhere, Phil,_ so clearly in his head)

And so, Phil, and his burgeoning worries about migrating, sweetly asks Dan to take a seat first while he orders.  

Two minutes later, he returns with bowls of spicy noodles in tow and Dan’s already made friends with a small Indian girl to his left. She’s standing next to Dan at the table and babbling, talking about how her grandmother has just gone to get some lunch and told her not to wander to _stwangers_. 

Dan dimples and she looks on, enraptured. Phil knows the feeling.

Phil sets down the bowls gently- god forbid he embarrasses himself halfway across the world - and smiles and laughs too. They keep her company, play a kind of _ABC_ alphabet game with arduous amounts of hand slapping, until an elderly lady comes to pick her up. Confused, but thanks them both all the same.

“Dig in?” Phil asks, flustered when Dan turns back to look at him weirdly, like heart eyes and a bit in awe. 18 all over again and Phil’s just kissed him with all of Manchester surrounding them.

“Yeah.” 

Dan says, grins.

 

-

 

“This _Milo_ drink is the fucking best thing ever,” Dan exclaims, as they wait in line for the aquarium visit. They’d stopped by a Milo _truck_ parked in front of a school and also gotten free iced drinks amongst the throng of tiny kids. 

“Like,” Dan pauses to take a sip, “First, it’s cold- _hallelujah_ for that, I swear, thirty degrees all year-round? _Jesus on a fucking Merlion_ \- and then the milky cocoa-y goodness just, _hits_ , y’know?” 

And Phil doesn’t, really; _lact-no_ and all that. But he smiles, and listens intently because he loves how Dan gets so _passionate_ about absolutely nothing. Phil can’t stop himself from edging closer and they brush hands. 

“Yeah.” And Phil finishes his sour _limau bandung_.

They’re part of a group of twenty eager-eyed visitors but slowly lose the crowd when Dan insists on making Phil take a million aesthetic pictures with various different sea creatures. Johan the hammerhead shark and the sea jellies, purple and pearlescent white. 

Dan tugging slightly onto his sleeve because, _hey you look like the fish!,_ and Dan, all wide-eyed at the beauty of marine life, clownfish and remora. Dan smiling wide when a fan approaches them, saying he _really likes Singapore,_ and catches Phil’s eye. 

Phil’s having trouble dissociating _this_ Dan from the ones through the years; quite similar actually, he realises.  Them watching the jaguars prowl at Manchester Zoo, the wombats in Australia. All memories Dan shares with Phil. 

How they’ve travelled more places with each other than without and _this_ expression; always. 

Phil takes a picture, kneels, has a thought. 

 _Soon_ , he promises himself, catches up with Dan who’s murmuring softly, scrunching his face at a lionfish pressed up against the glass tank.

   

-

 

“We’re leaving in the morning,” Dan reminds, as they munch on the room service they treat themselves to after a whole day of being on another _island._ It’s crazy how close and within reach most things are here.

“We are,” Phil agrees, snuggling closer. Their bags are packed; eight hours left on this brief trip. Rest before Australia begins, then the moving. 

Phil suddenly needs to know: “Hey, Dan, you had fun, right?” Because he was _adamant_ on stopping here and didn’t check if that was what Dan wanted too. 

“Love,” Dan kisses him soundly, “this was the fucking best.” 

 

Asia shines so brightly back at them.

 

“Most fun you’ve ever had?” Phil teases, mirth glittering. 

Dan doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Pretty much.”

 

-

 

A few years later, they would return to Singapore. To the sweltering heat and elderly Chinese ladies giggling and whispering furiously in Mandarin as they walk by. To the souvenir shops and local stalls and the faint smell of sea in the air. 

They would visit with their two children, family trip to the theme parks and back to the aquarium (and _Dan’s_ the most excited of the lot, of course) for nostalgia's sake. 

 

 _They’ll come back -_ no hypotheticals about it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> to clear up a few things:
> 
> shuai ge - handsome boy in Mandarin  
> (thanks to my pal deary_you for this!)  
> Milo- the best drink ever, hands down, no contest  
> limau bandung- a popular Malay drink, a bit like lemon juice
> 
> uhhhh let me know what you think? also, my apologies for any inaccuracies! 
> 
> ahhh i've been staving off social media for personal reasons but you can drop a comment below & i'll reply (after i wail about how nice you are for leaving a comment)
> 
> anyway, have a nice day!
> 
> EDIT: TFW THEY COME BACK TO SG THE DAY AFTER YOU POST THIS. just. the fuck


End file.
